


You Owe Me an Explanation (and Breakfast)

by cablesscutie



Series: Ridiculous Sentence Drabbles [1]
Category: Marvel Cinematic Universe
Genre: Canon Compliant, M/M, Post-CA:TWS
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-04-18
Updated: 2015-04-18
Packaged: 2018-03-23 15:19:10
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,002
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3773140
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/cablesscutie/pseuds/cablesscutie
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>After the Triskellion, Bucky needs time to figure himself out.  Three years later, he comes out of the cold and into Steve's kitchen.</p>
            </blockquote>





	You Owe Me an Explanation (and Breakfast)

**Author's Note:**

> Inspired by this post (http://toxixpumpkin.tumblr.com/post/108022477839/ridiculous-sentence-prompts)

“Who wouldn’t be angry? You ate all of my cereal and faked your death for three years!” 

“To be fair, I didn’t _mean_ to fake my death. People just sorta made assumptions after a while.” That clearly isn’t the response Steve is looking for because he just puts his hands on his hips and fixes Bucky with his best “Captain America Disapproves” scowl.

“You didn’t exactly try to prevent that either, though.” Bucky has the decency to look cowed at that, wincing and putting down the spoon that had been frozen halfway to his mouth.

“Yeah…” Bucky ran his metal fingers through his hair. The familiar nervous tick serving only to further enrage Steve. The man at the kitchen table was clearly Bucky Barnes. All that remained of the Winter Soldier was the prosthetic whirring softly as he dropped his left hand into his lap with the right. “I didn’t want you to worry about me running around by myself.”

“As opposed to the comforting thought of your demise. Right. Makes _perfect_ sense.” Steve throws his arms up in frustration, starting to pace now.

“I didn’t know what else to do!”

“You could’ve found me. You could’ve told me you were alright. I could’ve helped you!”

“Are you hearing yourself?” Bucky stands up too, not really planning on going anywhere, but if they're doing this, he isn’t going to allow himself to be lectured like a child. “I was anything but alright! All I knew was that I had to get as far away from D.C. as possible, and that you weren’t gonna want to let me do that. I didn’t even know why the hell you wouldn’t! I was pretty sure it wasn’t to arrest me, but at that point I couldn’t be more than 75% sure of _anything_ so I hid.”

“For _three_ years?”

“I needed time, Steve. I had to figure out who I was. I had to figure out how to be human again in a time where most of what I remembered about being a person _didn’t fucking apply_ anymore.”

“I could’ve helped,” Steve insists, standing firmly in front of Bucky, arms crossed - holding his ground as always, but softening the way he always did for Bucky, his tone more pleading than scolding.

“Steve,” Bucky sighs. “If I’d come home the second I wanted to…” this time it looks like he gives his hair a good tug when he rakes his fingers through it. “Yes, maybe I would’ve remembered sooner, but you also would’ve been taking care of me 24/7.”

“You took care of me when I used to get sick. That’s just what we do, Buck.”

“Not like this. Even when we used to say we only had each other, we still had friends and jobs, and we _went out_. I couldn’t have been around anyone. Not for a long time. It would’ve been you and me shut up in this apartment while I lost my shit and tried to murder you every time a car backfired or a siren went off. By the time I was well enough to try getting back what we used to have, it would’ve been gone.” There’s something hidden in the tone of Bucky’s voice, and Steve is pained by the thought that it’s been so long since they spoke, he can’t quite pick it out. Still, it makes something spark warm in his chest, and it feels a lot like hope. He’s never been a coward, but anxiety buzzes through him as he asks,

“And now?” Bucky takes a step forward, smile sliding into place, warm and easy. Steve lets his arms drop to his sides.

“Why do you think I’m here?” Steve glances at the neglected bowl of cereal on the table and says,

“Breakfast,” wearing a grin of his own, and opening his arms.

“Gimme a break; I was hungry,” Bucky complains, stepping into Steve’s embrace anyway, arms wrapping around his waist. He rests his head on Steve’s shoulder and closes his eyes, memorizing exactly how this feels, and when he feels warm lips press against his forehead, he tucks that away too. Nobody can make him forget anymore, and as his personal “fuck you” to Hydra, Bucky is determined to collect as many good memories as he can. So, he tilts his chin up to catch Steve’s lips as they’re pulling away, and - God, he’s just going to have to keep making this memory until it’s branded on his brain. He makes a mental note of it and smiles into the kiss, inadvertently breaking it off, but it’s okay. They have time now, and he hasn’t talked to his best friend in years, and more than anything else, that’s what he’s missed.

“I hope you remembered how to cook,” Steve murmurs, his forehead leaned against Bucky’s and mischief glinting in his eyes. “Because you definitely owe me breakfast for springing this on me first thing in the morning.” Bucky laughs and steps away (not at all pleased by the little whine of complaint Steve makes at the loss of warmth).

“Yeah, alright. Guess it’s only fair. You got eggs?”

“Second shelf in the fridge,” Steve points unnecessarily to where it stands in the corner of the kitchen. “I’m gonna go call Sam and cancel our run,” he calls over his shoulder, retrieving his cellphone from the living room.

“Why don’t you tell him to come by and join us?” Steve pauses, unsure, with the phone ringing next to his ear.

“You okay with that?”

“Yeah. Unless you want it to be just us, but if memory serves, I think I owe him an apology omelette too.” Steve smiles wider than he has since 1945. On the other end of the line Sam answers with a 

“Heya, Cap. What’s up?” 

Steve’s voice is both fond and fragile as he tells him, “I was wondering if you’d mind coming over for breakfast instead of a run...Bucky’s got an egg-white western with your name on it.”

**Author's Note:**

> Constructive criticism is much appreciated! If you have any thoughts you would like to share (any at all, seriously) just post a comment- I'd love to hear from you. Or, you can come join me on tumblr as fire-lord-mai!


End file.
